


How Q hated Christmas until Bond happened

by DoraTLG



Series: Christmas gifts 2014 [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraTLG/pseuds/DoraTLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Bond is helping the Minions decorate the Q-Branch and Q is totally pissed off by all the christmas-y mood and decorations and songs and everything. Bond tries to change his mind. (How he does that is completely up to you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Q hated Christmas until Bond happened

**Author's Note:**

> It was done a bit differently, because I have this sickness - every time someone gives me a prompt or art to work with, I remember the key things, then don't look at it for a long time, an idea is born in my mind and then I work with it and after I look at the prompt again, it doesn't completely match. Anyway, I REALLY hope you will like it, Lena :) enjoy your Christmas!

“Oooooh, just... no!“ Q whined as he walked into the Q branch. The whole room was decorated in green and red, his most hated colour combination ever. He hated Christmas. He hated everything about it, from the lights to the family gatherings, even the presents, he hated it all. And now even his workplace was contaminated. How awful.

He walked to his table to be greeted by John, normally a very pleasant person, but now too cheerful to be considered a friend.

“John, are you... wearing a Christmas sweater?“ Q asked while rubbing his temples. God, let him wake up.

“Yes!“ John answered happily, pulling at his reindeer piece of clothing. „It's from Primark, do you like it?”

„No,“ Q set his bag at the table and opened his laptop. He could survive this. With enough tea to never leave his work station and with headphones and his playlist of heavy metal, he would see as little of Christmas as he could.

That was when his boyfriend entered. Q thought his salvation came. Bond was a tough man, a killing machine, he would understand Q's hatred for this unnecessary holiday.

“Hi, John, nice sweater!”

Q stared at the agent who was suddenly smiling at everyone and picking up sugar canes. He handed one to Q.

“Merry Christmas!” he smiled even wider and Q wanted to punch him. He settled at looking grumpy and turned away.

“What's wrong?” James asked. “Not feeling the Christmas mood?”

“No.”

James sat on his table, sucking on the sugar cane.

“Don't you like Christmas?” he asked, curious.

“You do?” Q raised his eyebrows like it was a stupid and obvious question.

“Yeah, I think it's nice,” James shrugged.

“I thought you were an intelligent asset to our team, James,” Q said, disappointed. Bond took the cane out of his mouth.

“Did you just call us a “team”?” he asked, deadpanned. “Did you call me an ASSET?”

“I… look, I just hate Christmas, OK? I always did and this all makes me sick.”

“Why do you hate Christmas?” James asked. Q just shrugged.

“I… it's not important, OK?”

James stood up and looked seriously in the eyes.

„Not important?“ he asked and Q could hear an accusation in his words. Yes, James told him everything. And if he felt like this was something related to Q's previous life, Q had no option than to tell him if he wanted to be fair. So Q looked around them to see if no one could hear, and sighed.

“OK, listen. My family was really into these things while growing up and they made me hate it. Everyone just fights over stupid things, people that don't like each other forced to be together, giving gifts everyone wants to return, eating shit they don't like just to please the host, and disappearing the second they could. And everyone just goes nuts around holidays, people almost killing themselves at the stores, and for what? One day of discomfort just because the Church wants us to believe that Jesus was born? And don't even get me started on that part, I would MUCH rather celebrate some pagan holiday than Christmas…”

James listened with an open mouth.

“We lived in different worlds,” he said at the end. Q shrugged.

“I guess so. So… if you want to celebrate Christmas, go on, but I won't be a participant in this, OK? I just… just don't feel like it.”

“So what do you do at the Christmas Eve?” Bond asked sadly.

“Take away China food and Lethal Weapon one, two, three and sometimes four if I'm not drunk enough to fall asleep.”

James huffed in amusement.

“Sounds like my dream day without you and any hope. Alright, well, I have to run. Got some things to do.”

He left, stealing another sugar cane, and Q made all the precautions to forget the atmosphere around him and become as isolated as it gets.

 

Bond came back in the evening. Q was just about to finish work and go home when the agent entered the Q branch. The agent walked over to him and smiled.

“Feel like joining me for a dinner?” he asked. Q shrugged.

“OK, but I have nothing in the fridge, so I guess we could order something in?” he gathered his things.

“And what about my place?” James asked.

“Your place?”

“Yes, my place. My flat. I have a flat, remember?”

“You have an excuse for a flat, James,” Q said. James lived in his new apartment for half a year now and he still didn't unpack most of his stuff. “But fine, why not.”

They went by tube to avoid London traffic and entered the flat exactly one hour later.

James went in first and Q after him, not really paying attention to his surroundings until he saw the lights. He disbelievingly looked around himself, absolutely baffled.

“I redecorated,” James smiled at him. His living room was turned into a Christmas festival, with decorations all over the walls, Christmas cake on the coffee table and a huge tree dominating the room, filled with lights and balls and bows. Bond undressed his jacket and revealed an ugly Christmas sweater.

“I had beautiful Christmas when I was a child,” he said. “Before my family died, they used to decorate our whole house and garden and we would have a dinner for just the three of us, and then our relatives would come the second day and my parents would let me lock myself in my room with my new presents and not bother with the adults. And we all loved those peaceful moments of our lives and that stayed with me until this day. But you didn't have this luxury. So I am going to rewrite your memories.”

James stepped closer to Q, who was watching him with big eyes and opened mouth.

“I want you to have at least one holiday as it should be, with someone who loves you and who you, hopefully, love, so that if you see anything Christmassy in the future, you won't cringe. So what do you say we'll have a hot chocolate and some gingerbread watching Love Actually? And no China takeaway on the Christmas Eve, you will stay here with me. And no presents. I don't need anything but you. And you will have to do with me. But I can put on a bow if you want.”

Q had no words. He looked around himself, looked at all the stuff he's been avoiding for years, and suddenly it didn't look that bad. He grasped the hideous sweater and pulled the agent to him, kissing him hotly.

“Yes. But not because I am as soft as you,” he smirked when they parted. “But because I like the idea that there will be lots of gay sex going around on this planted holiday.”

James laughed at that.

“Happy Birthday, Jesus!”


End file.
